


Risk Assessment Failure

by Eclectic_Goddess



Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Gen, Post-Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclectic_Goddess/pseuds/Eclectic_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clay wakes up after a mission that didn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risk Assessment Failure

**Author's Note:**

> Written in July, 2010. Previously posted on Livejournal.

Clay came awake to darkness. It took a long time before he realized that his eyes were open.

Somewhere nearby, he could hear Aisha. She sounded pissed off. Not the quiet, deadly kind of pissed off though, so that was good. He could make out Pooch and Jensen’s voices, too, raised but less strident than Aisha’s. Clay was glad they weren’t dead.

He thought they were in the safe house. He tried to look around, but the movement made his head spin. He could feel the bed beneath him, though, and the shadows on the ceiling looked familiar. He’d lain staring at them for a long time the night before they were due to hit another one of Max’s operations, going over and over the plan, trying to predict every potential failure. Now it seemed he’d overlooked at least one.

Out of the corner of his eye, Clay saw a shadow move. He tensed, but that only awakened a deep grinding pain in the area where his ribcage used to be. His left hand flexed obediently, but the right merely shot more pain up his arm. He was wondering if he’d even be able to make a fist when the shadow resolved itself into a recognizable shape.

“Hey Cougar,” he said. The breath required to say it made him not want to take another. He lifted his good hand to his chest, but was afraid to touch anything.

“Boss.” Cougar leaned his rifle against the bed and reached for the lamp on the nightstand. Clay winced in anticipation, but Cougar slid the lamp down onto the floor before clicking it on. From there, it threw light into the rest of the room and across the ceiling but left Clay mostly in shadow. He was grateful.

Taking a seat where the lamp used to be, Cougar held up a hand. “How many fingers?”

Clay tried to count them, but Cougar’s fingers kept slipping out of his range of vision, and the one on the right seemed suspect at best. He was still thinking about it when Cougar let out a snort and turned away.

“How bad is it?”

Cougar came up with a bottle of water and a small plastic box that Jensen sometimes called “The Pharmacy”. He opened a compartment and shook two small pills into his hand. “Five broken ribs, right hand, cuts, bruises…maybe a concussion.”

Clay could feel the wrappings now, tight around his chest. “All me?” he asked.

Cougar smiled wryly, and at least Clay could be comforted by the knowledge that he’d caught the brunt of the punishment for a change. Taking the pills Cougar offered, he chased them with water. His hand shook as he passed the bottle back. “The disks?”

“Got ‘em.”

“Good.” Clay wanted to ask what went wrong, but he didn’t know if he was up to hearing it just then. Jensen would tell the story better, anyway, with Pooch there to correct his exaggerations and supply the boring but ultimately important details. His injuries might cost them a few days, but they’d achieved their objective. The information on those disks was another link in the chain that would lead them to Max. Clay called it a win.

Cougar leaned over him and began looking over the bandages around his ribcage. He’d moved on to examine the splint on Clay’s left hand and was rewrapping the tape there when the door burst open.

Aisha charged in, glaring at Clay and Cougar as though they’d been specifically plotting against her. She was geared up, knife at her hip and guns barely concealed beneath her jacket. “How long?” she demanded.

Cougar and Clay answered simultaneously. “Two weeks.” “Four days.”

Aisha snorted in derision. “I’m out of here. I’ll catch up to you later…maybe.”

“Aisha-”

She was gone before Clay could even begin to think of an argument to keep her there. She slammed the door behind her and fresh pain lanced through Clay’s head. He closed his eyes.

“What’s the matter with her?”

Cougar brushed his ribs as he returned his splinted hand to the bed, and Clay felt it like a punch. When he managed to pry his eyes open again, Cougar was giving him a pointed look. Clay recognized that look. It said “You’re a dumbass.” and also, “You are lucky you’re injured.” It was a look usually reserved for Jensen. 

Clay suspected he deserved it, even if he couldn’t remember why.

Apparently finished with him, Cougar picked his rifle back up. He left the bottle of water on the nightstand and bent to click off the lamp once more. The fresh darkness eased the ache in Clay’s head.

“Hey, Coug?”

Cougar paused at the door. “Yeah boss?”

“Thanks.”

“De nada.”

He slipped out then, leaving the door open a few inches. Clay listened as Jensen and Pooch greeted him, their voices too low to make out now. He didn’t hear Cougar’s reply, if he gave one. It was enough to know that they were all okay, and they were together. Clay closed his eyes and let their voices carry him back down into the darkness.

 

THE END


End file.
